Thursday, November 07, 2002
 

Ahhh. Classes are over for the week (deep cleansing breath). Now if I can just make it through a meeting with the Victorian lit prof tomorrow (without him changing paper topics on me again, that is), I can relax (read: spend the rest of the weekend studying, just not in the classroom). I've got so much to do now that it's unthinkable, now that papers are due in about 5 or 6 weeks. Crunch time hath arrived, I fear. I've got to think of a convincing thesis for my paper by my meeting at 1:00 tomorrow, then start some heavy-duty Faulkner research, then a paper symposium, then the weekend officially begins.

I'm at home on Thursday night; my television-watching friend is off visiting her boyfriend in Ohio. However, I'm not alone; I've got a hot dude with me. In fact, he's lying on my bed right now. That's right: I'm cat-sitting. Jake is a 17-lb orangey tom (well, he's officially gender-neutral) who's technically on a diet, though his mommy forgot to tell me how much to feed him, so I may be either under or over feeding him at the moment (I'm erring on the side of over). He's a sweetie, even if he has already gotten fur all over my black futon (and black shirt, and black tights . . . maybe I need to wear the orange turtleneck tomorrow). I can barely pick him up. We'd been watching the X-Files "All You Can Eat" (all-cannibalism) marathon together, but I suppose he got scared. He's a bit on the wussy side; I think my Bradshaw could probably take him.

Elvisette philosophized at 9:41 PM